


Immersion

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Elvhen Ascension [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Biting, Bondage, Complicated Relationships, Crying, Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Pain, Power Dynamics, Safewords, Sexual Experimentation, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spanking, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-24 17:01:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: They'd been in bed for hours, the first time, and Bull had opened him up slowly and excruciatingly carefully, even as the grip on his neck or his wrists had been rough and strong. Lavellan had been exhausted afterwards, had walked bow-legged for two days.And now, they were going to do it all again.





	Immersion

The first night was sex.

Just sex, just simple sex, and yet Lavellan didn’t think he’d ever felt such a cocktail of complicated emotions in his life, the way that Iron Bull moved him around. Lavellan wasn’t a big man. Elves weren’t big, for the most part, even compared to humans, but even with humans, he’d never felt…

Iron Bull made him feel _small_, but not in a dangerous way. He felt small in the way a precious thing was, something cherished and cupped in the palms of one’s hand, like Iron Bull felt he might shatter in his hands—

And yet, in the same breath, he could be so rough. The first time, he’d pinned Lavellan up by his wrists, and then hauled him over to the bed, thrown him down. Lavellan had tried to lean up to meet him, but Bull had pinned his hands above his head and put one knee between his thighs, and the whole time, it had been _glorious_…

"It's too big," Lavellan had said, when he'd actually felt the Iron Bull's cock against his leg, his arse, and Bull had laughed at him, laughed a low and honey-soaked chuckle that crept under Lavellan’s skin and set his whole body trembling. He had _wanted_. His cock had been so hard it was leaking at the head, and Iron Bull hadn’t drawn away for a moment, sliding his own cock deliberately against Lavellan’s thigh.

He'd hooked two fingers against Lavellan's arse, not yet wet, just pressing on the muscle of his hole, and said, "It's gonna fit. I'm gonna _make_ it fit." 

He had. 

They'd been in bed for hours, and Bull had opened it up slowly and excruciatingly carefully, even as the grip on his neck or his wrists had been rough and strong. Lavellan had been exhausted afterwards, had walked bow-legged for _two days_.

And now, they were going to do it all again. 

“That’s it, so that I can see you,” Iron Bull murmured, watching with his hands on his hips as Lavellan pulled off his footwraps, so that he was entirely naked before him, sitting on the edge of his bed. Lavellan’s skin felt hot and prickling all over, lit alight by the gaze of Iron Bull’s eye. “No talking, no questions, okay? You take what I give you tonight.”

“I can’t even ask for more?” Lavellan said.

The Iron Bull’s gaze was smouldering and hard, and Lavellan shivered as he took a few deliberate steps forward. Seemingly from nowhere, he drew out a length of rope, and he tapped Lavellan’s wrists. When Lavellan put his hands up, wrists angled to the ceiling, the Bull tied them neatly and _tightly_, never breaking Lavellan’s gaze, and Lavellan felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Your word is _katoh_. Say it for me.”

“Katoh,” Lavellan said, head spinning. “I was only joking, Bull, I didn’t—”

“On your front,” Iron Bull said softly. “Rest on your elbows.”

It would leave his arse hanging off the end of the bed, his thighs against the soft corner of the mattress, and Lavellan couldn’t help the way his gaze flickered down to Bull’s hands, which were _huge_, and broad, and scarred. There was something electrifying about the difference between them, that the Iron Bull was still fully dressed, but…

“Yeah,” Iron Bull said, with the slightest of razor-edge smirks. “You get it.”

“Bull—”

“Oh, you _really_ don’t want me to tell you again,” Iron Bull said lowly, in a rumbling growl, and Lavellan swallowed, but turned onto his front, slowly resting his forearms on the mattress. Iron Bull touched his thigh with the tips of his fingers, and Lavellan jumped, expecting the blow, but it didn’t come. Iron Bull just rubbed his palm over Lavellan’s arse, slid over the skin there.

Iron Bull laughed at him.

He leaned in, so that his body was over Lavellan’s, his chest brushing against his back, and Lavellan let out a breathless whimper at the _weight_ of him, at the heat of Bull’s breath on the back of his ear.

“I’m gonna put you through your paces tonight,” Iron Bull said in his ear. “Really see what I can make you do. But you need to stop, you say the word katoh. You want to struggle, you want to be disobedient, you want to kick and scratch and bite ‘til I hold you down and fuck you so hard you can’t breathe? You do that. If that’s what you need.”

“Not tonight,” Lavellan said, and pressed his forehead to the mattress. He was aware of the bite of the rope into his wrists, a pleasant pressure on the skin, keeping them tight together in front of his face, but he almost wish they were tied behind him, instead, tied at the small of his back, so that he'd be powerless to get out of them, so that... 

“No talking,” Bull reminded him, and his palm came down like a thunderclap.

Lavellan didn't even moan, the pain came down so suddenly and so hot, leaving a shocked lack of sensation on his skin for just a half a moment before the heat began to sizzle out from where the blow had struck. He gasped, the sound ragged. The heated pain was indescribable, burning with glorious heat over his skin and making the muscle and flesh underneath _throb_, and his prick gave a lurch against the sheets. Every one of his hairs felt like it was standing on end, and despite the pain all he could do was bow his back and put his backside up for more.

Bull smacked him again, and this time Lavellan cried out at the pain stacked directly where the first blow had come down. It felt like it had seared right into the bone, that desperate, glorious pain, and he clenched his fingers into tight fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. Again. Again—

The blows blurred together. He couldn't keep track of them as separate, after a while, because it was all just a flurry of incandescent pain on the flesh, each blow a revelation. Lavellan felt like he was burning, and for the first time, he truly understood how flame could be made to purify, utterly doused as h was in that fiery pain.

His backside was a burning glow of warmth, throbbing and aching as blow after blow came down, and oh, he’d bruise, he’d ache for days, but it was the new pain that really made him wail, the sudden cracks that came down on the tops of his thighs. His wrists were pressed together, crushed under his chest, and when he spread his legs, the Iron Bull’s hand smacked against his inner thigh.

Every thought at the corner of his mind, of Skyhold, of the Inquisition, of the people, of Andraste, of anything: it all faded into nothingness, distant and unimportant, far outside of his own head. He had ceased to be a person, here, to be the Inquisitor, to be Dalish, to be elven, to even be alive: he was just heat and pain and aching and gasping, the pleasure and the pain one amorphous, inexplicable mass, and that was Lavellan himself.

He didn't realize he was crying until Bull pulled him up by his hair and dragged him to straddle his lap. Lavellan cried out at the way the shift in position made the skin stretch, the muscles eke out their sensations of pain, and Iron Bull's hands cupped his cheeks. 

They were wet, tears streaking down from Lavellan's eyes, and Lavellan gasped in a breath, not feeling like he was inflating his lungs the way that he wanted to.

"Your cock is hard," Iron Bull said, and the words sounded like they were coming to Lavellan through a veil of water, muffled and faraway. He could barely focus on Bull's face, too wrapped up as he was on the pain in his backside, but it wasn't just pain. All he could think about was the rope digging into his wrists and the burning heat in his arse, his thighs... It was so _hot_, and he was floating so high with it, drowned in how all-encompassing it was. "Hey. You hear me?"

Lavellan's eyes closed, and he spread his fingers on Bull's chest, as much as he could with his wrists bound together so tightly. He felt as if he was floating, still, as if he was maybe swaying in Iron Bull’s lap – was he swaying?

"Tap your finger on my chest for me.” Lavellan inhaled. “_Hey_,” Bull growled, and it cut through Lavellan’s haze, making him glance up, meeting his gaze. “Now. Tap my chest.” 

Lavellan, dizzied and desperate, was still, but this was Bull, Bull was telling him... And he did what Bull said here, didn’t he? Bull was in charge. Lavellan didn’t have to make the decisions, he didn’t have to be in charge, he could just do as Bull said… He tapped his pinky, weakly, against the grey skin.

"Okay. Two taps if you need me to stop."

Lavellan didn't mean to whine that he did, the sound tumbling out of his mouth as he shook his head emphatically, pressing his hands on Bull's chest, and Bull caught his bound wrists. The movement made his arse ache even more, his thighs complaining at the angle, and Bull shushed him.

"Okay, okay," he said soothingly, his thumbs stroking Lavellan's palms. "Gimme these."

Lavellan stared, dumbly, as Bull undid the ropes at his wrists, and he could see the slight indentation to his skin that the ropes had left, the bite of them into the flesh.

"You didn't talk much yesterday, either," Bull murmured. "Not a big talker during sex, huh? Can you say your word for me?"

"Don't... want to stop."

"Just show me you can, sweetheart." 

“Katoh,” Lavellan mumbled.

“Good boy,” Iron Bull murmured, and his hands landed on Lavellan’s lower back. Slowly, deliberately, he brought them down against Lavellan’s buttocks, his great hands touching over the flesh and then _squeezing_, his fingers digging in. It made his new bruises ache, and Lavellan shuddered out a gasp. “Eyes closed.”

Lavellan’s eyes were closed before he even realized he was obeying. He couldn’t see, could only focus on the sweet, pleasure-hot sensation of the Iron Bull’s fingers massaging the abused flesh. He was drowning in it, under the weight of all of this stimulation.

He came, at some point.

It didn’t really come away from the rest of the feeling he was being overwhelmed with: there was a release, but it was only small compared to the rush of everything else, and when Bull gently laid him down on the bed, he was still buried in it, still…

Iron Bull got him to drink something. He wasn’t even sure of what it was, just that Iron brought it to his lips, told him to drink, so Lavellan drank. He fed him something, too, and Lavellan chewed obediently, swallowed, but barely tasted it, because Bull was there, Bull…

His lips brushed Bull’s hand, but his mouth was clumsy, lips stumbling where they touched Bull’s knuckles.

“No, not now,” Bull said. “Lie down, on my chest. Nice and still.”

Lavellan wasn’t certain when he fell asleep, but he slept _deep_, deeper than he’d slept in a long, long time. He felt drained even when he woke up, the pain in his backside _bruising_ now, aching, and his thighs, his wrists…

“More water,” Bull said, and Lavellan opened his mouth before the skein touched his lips. It was easy, somehow, letting Bull move him back and forth, letting Bull get him to drink, eat something… A few hours went by in a haze, like he was drunk, almost, and when he began to come out of it…

“Andruil’s _teeth_, my arse hurts.”

“Yeah, I wondered when you’d start really feeling it,” Bull said, chuckling, and he pushed Lavellan onto his belly, flicking open a cap of something. It smelled like a healing balm, and it felt cool when Bull applied it to the abused, bruised flesh, tingling with peppermint freshness on the skin. “Fuck me. You went in _deep._ Thought I was gonna have to explain how I’d gotten you high when someone came looking for you.”

Lavellan felt a lurching twist in his gut. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bull said. “My fault. And it was _good_, it was damned sexy. You did good. You did so good.”

He wiped his hand on a cloth, and he dragged Lavellan close, drew him up and into his lap, and Lavellan sighed, leaning into Bull. He felt _drained_, beyond exhausted, but it was a _good_ drained, a satisfied one.

“I can’t do paperwork today,” Lavellan said.

“No, you can’t,” Bull agreed. “I’m gonna keep you here and play with your cock and feed you Orlesian truffles all day long.”

There was a short pause.

“Really?” Lavellan asked.

“No. You’re gonna put on pants, go downstairs, and go to meetings… And you have to sit down for all of it.” Iron Bull bit the corner of his ear, and Lavellan groaned, burying his face in Bull’s neck.

“Does that always happen?” Lavellan asked quietly.

“No,” Iron Bull murmured. “I won’t take you there again, not unless we talk it through first, but once I had you up there, I had to bring you down slow and gentle, let you sleep it off. We’ll see where your threshold is, make sure you have time to recover, if I bring you up to that. You okay?”

“It was good,” Lavellan said. “It was… _easy_. When I was like that.”

“Yeah,” Bull said quietly, and tapped his thigh, making him twinge.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” Lavellan asked.

“Sleep with you, or fuck you?”

“Sleep with me,” Lavellan murmured. “Although I’m far from opposed to fucking.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Bull said, tracing between his aching buttocks, and Lavellan sighed, turning to kiss him. They had time, after all, before he went downstairs… And he wanted to make use of it while he had it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to hit up [my ask on Tumblr,](http://patricianandclerk.tumblr.com/ask) to talk about DA in general, and definitely to recommend blogs to follow! I am open for requests (for Origins, II, and Inq).


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